My Lungs Gave out as I Faced the Crowd
by ShadowLev
Summary: That swirling abyss of depression lures into its clutches anyone who thinks too much. Logan is one of those people. Jogan in later chapters.
1. I'm a walking travesty

I'm baaaaaaaaack :) Hello my dear friends, it's good to see you again.

Disclaimer: may contain triggers. Involves depression and self-harm as well as dark thoughts. Also involves boy love. Just to warn you.

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Logan stands at the edge of the bathroom sink, unaware of why he's doing this. The mirror cabinet is popped open because he can't look at himself. His logical mind tells him that society says this is really fucked up, but his emotional mind keeps pushing him to the next step in the process. He has a disposable razor in his left hand and a tweezer in the right. Methodically, he rips and pries at the plastic encapsulating the blade. This is the first time he's had this urge since they've come to L.A, this is the first time his subconcious need overuled his logical minds warnings. It warned that his friends were always there, that they might notice. Either way, here he stood with the items in his hands.

He didn't exactly know what set this off, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the subtle comment from Mrs Knight about having to carry off loads of laundry. His mind dwelt on that little sentence, running over it a billion times. He knew it was stupid, that she probably didn't mean anything by it, but his mind didn't stop running over it. That stupid voice in his head kept telling him about how he should be doing his own laundry, his friend's mother shouldn't be doing it. He was a horrible person for doing that, putting responsibility of his own worthless body onto that of someone who wasn't even related to him.

The blade finally popped out of the plastic. Logan picked it up carefully with his fingers and rolled up his sleeve. He smirked at the nearly flawless, pale skin. One little scar remained from his Minnesota days, only an inch long and white.

Thoughts and that little voice clouded over his mind and told him over and over how horrible he was, how he didn't deserve anything that he received. He sucked at singing, he sucked at life. He just plain sucked and kept dragging his friends down. With those thoughts in his mind, Logan put the blade against the skin under his upper arms, where they'd be covered by cardigans and most t-shirts, and pressed down harshly. It stung, it hurt like a bitch. He hated the feeling, and yet as he watched the thin bubble of blood well up on it, he felt compelled to do it again.

It wasn't enough. He couldn't even cut right. If he ever did tell anyone, they'd laugh and tell him to stop seeking attention. He didn't deserve they're help, it was his own fault. The blade bit down on his skin again, sharper this time, and he had to look away as he dragged it fiercely against his skin.

After several more cuts, enough to keep his skin oiled with blood, Logan pocketed the tiny blade and wrapped up the pieces of plastic to bury in the trash. Three bandaids covered up the cuts and he was ready to go about his day again.

He didn't really know why he cut, no that's not the word. He didn't know why he scratched himself. He knew people with much worse problems than he had. Hell, he had it made. Millions of people dreamed to be part of what he was. However, this horrible wrenching guilt that forever swarmed his stomach and his mind dragged him down.

Logan pushed the issue out of his mind and left the bathroom. A blur rushed past and slammed the door. By the plaid-colored tone of the blur, it had been Kendall. James and Carlos sat on the couch, playing video games excitedly. James looked up.

"Dude, c'mon, we were waiting for you," James said and waved another controller. A stab of guilt rippled beneath his skin, but Logan kept it from showing as he grabbed the controller and began eagerly button jamming.

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Basing this off of previous experience. Thanks for reading, stay tuned for more.


	2. But I'm Smiling at Everything

I'm going for more short chapters because this kind of issue is a lot longer in time than it is in action.

Thank you for your reviews and your inspiration!

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It was a very comfortable setting. Warmth and human contact lulled Logan into a sense of security. The movie was simple and childish, with just enough adult humor to make it awesome. The couch barely held the pile of bodies, but for some reason it just made it better.

James had the arm and Logan leant up against his side, with Kendall in between his legs. Whenever Dory or Crush did something funny, James's sides would quake, making Logan bounce up and down. Camille and Jo giggled at various portions, from their sprawled out places on top of Kendall and Carlos.

There was something here, Logan thought, wrapped up in his best friends that made things so right. The bitter voice in his head had quieted down and he merely enjoyed the human contact. James had a arm wrapped around his waist and Logan wished he could just fall asleeo right here. If he could die right now, it would be the best feeling ever. Instead, he just let his tiredness seep through his body and inhaled the smell of others.

As he thought of how happy and content he felt, he felt thankful for the lack of the bad thoughts. This, of course, made them suffuse into his thoughts. The thought that his friends thought he was just annoying and touchy, that he didn't deserve this happiness, that he was the biggest idiot for being depressed over nothing. Logan struggled to maintain a blank face as he tried to suppress these thoughts. He didn't believe all of them, but hearing them over and over again wasn't the best in the world.

So he shook his head and stared back at the television, trying to refocus on the screen and the story. He needed them out of his head, they felt like a million buzzing bees, criticizing everything about him.

Logan watched as Dory begged Marlin to not leave her alone. He bit his lip and looked off. Someday he would be alone, he just knew it. His friends would grow up and go on with their lives and he would be a hermit in his house, all alone with nothing but memories and horrible voices in his head. He reached up and scratched at his sleeve, a slight sting building in the cuts.

The movie progressed until the more inspirational parts came up. Logan felt himself get the power to banish the voice and stop scratching. He could stop this by himself. He had the power. It was hust a mental game he played with himself. Firmly he resolved to stop being a whiny bitch and to be happy. His friends were cloaking him in warmth and friendship.

"Yeah right," his voice murmured.

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Thank you for reading, please review, I'll update soon


	3. My ship went down in a sea of sound

Hello my lovelies, these chapters are short because things like this are more a piling on day after day. Thank you my lovely reviewers for giving me inspiration :)

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He was tired. Dog tired. Exhaustion seeped through every pore of his body. Logan lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Then he flipped over and clutched another pillow to his chest. He sighed and closed his eyes. The darkness seeped in, but his mind wouldn't shut off. With a grunt, Logan flipped over.

So tired. The movie had lasted pretty long, and after the movie and the rehearsal today, all of the others had crashed. Heck, Logan crashed too, except he couldn't sleep. He flipped onto his stomach. After several seconds and maneuvering his head and neck to be able to breathe, Logan sighed again. He rolled back onto his back. He closed his eyes.

He felt himself hovering just on the edge of sleep. He was just that close. So close. He started thinking though. His mind began raking up painful feelings, like crushes and pressure and parents and sexuality. Instead, he thought about math. He tried to remember the Gettysburg address. _Four score and seven years ago, our forefathers brought forth a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men were created equal..._ but his mind drifted from one topic to another without rest.

Logan rolled over and grabbed his phone to check the time. It was three in the morning. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and went to his dresser drawer. A bottle of sleep aid Tylenol lay cradled by his socks. He popped open the bottle and shook out some. Logan ran his thumb around the small pile in his hands, and sighed. So tired. He ended up picking two out, dumping the rest back, and tossing them back.

The bitter medicine left an aftertaste, but Logan wanted to spend as much time as possible trying to sleep. His bed was so soft, and every inch of his body lusted for the draught of sleep.

He wanted sleep. More than anything. He didn't want to deal with exhaustion anymore. The thought of taking more than two pills was so tempting. He would just take a couple and be able to sleep more. He could take a bunch and sleep forever. Just sleep and sleep and sleep and never wake up to burden anyone else again.

Logan hated himself for these thought. He hated them. He shouldn't even dare think of these, his friends would find him and have to deal with him. He would be a poor role model for the others in Hollywood. Everyone would hate his name forever. But still, the ability to sleep was so alluring to him.

Luckily, he was able to finally get into the next level of sleep and forget his thoughts.

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Thank you for reading, please review!


	4. Handful of moments I wish I could change

Hey guys, sorry it took so long to update. I've been sleeping like a bear. I would have updated last night, but I'm in the middle of the snowpocalypse, so my power went out in the middle of this chapter. That means my story was lost. And of course, my idiot friend had me freaked out last night by going out in the blizzarding thunder snow, despite the fact that he has a history of fainting and had just experienced pain in his side so severe that he fell off his chair, so I had spent about two hours blowing up his phone with texts about what an hijo de puta he was and calling him to tell him to fuck himself and go inside. He was playing with swords...asshole. So instead of writing, I was making sure he didn't turn into a jeffsickle. I have the day off today because of said 5 foot drifts and two feet of snow in my driveway, so I finished today. Hope you enjoy!

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_He stared at the table. There was nothing else he could do, except stare at the table. Arguing got him nowhere, and besides, this time it was justified. He felt disappointed in himself, but honestly, why did they feel the need to make him feel worse?_

_His father paced back and forth yelling. His mother leaned against the counter with her arms folded. It was interesting, how they managed to agree so thoroughly on the topic of grades, but couldn't agree on anything else. This was the first time in a week since his father had seen him, and it was to scold him. _

_"Do you want to end up working all day long? Do you want to end up miserable? Because if you keep acting like this, it's going to happen!" His father yelled. Logan sighed and took it silently. It wouldn't do to point out that 7th grade didn't matter. He never argued with his father, the man was too scary as it was. _

_His mother, however, was easy to argue with. When she started on him on Friday nights, after having fights with her boyfriend, he found his stressed mind snapping. So he snapped back. She would scream and cry, he would scream._

_"Get out, never come back!" she would scream, "You mean nothing to me," and he would. He would run out and slam the door and go to the park. Usually, he was to shaken up to bother calling his old hockey mates. He would just stay and punch shit in the park until his knuckles bled freely. It was fun, being able to inflict damage on something. _

_It sucked as it got colder out, sometimes he'd be wading through snow and his feet would go numb and his hands would ache. He'd always get the text from his mother telling him to come back, she was sorry. So he would go home, she would hug him and apologize. He would apologize and let it be. She would forget the fight and the hurt, but he wouldn't. So when he went up to his room alone, he would feel that urge and take out his pocket knife and use the big dull blade on his stomach to scratch his stomach. It wouldn't draw blood, but it would leave some pretty good red marks. _

_"What's up, butt-pirate?"_

_His junior high sucked. He wasn't the most friendly, charismatic person, so he was naturally alone. Kendall, Carlos, and James had all gone to a different junior high because of the school lines. _

_"Hey fudgepacker,"_

_He missed hockey tryouts because he was sick with the flu for a week. So he didn't have many friends, only Matt and Tony, who were losers in and of themselves. Neither had girlfriends, neither had more than each other as friends, neither had any kind of reputation. _

_"Yo, cocksucker," _

_He wasn't a nerd, he just liked to read and knew stuff. He knew a hell of a lot more than any of the others in his classes, because he absorbed info like a sponge. He also was going through a bit of a weird stage, wearing weird clothing and listening to weird music. So nobody talked to him except Matt and Tony. _

_"Ball-licker, you be camera man," _

_When he was questioning his sexuality, they were there, so he told them. He wasn't remotely attracted to either of them, and he had been sure they'd be quiet and wouldn't spread it around. And they didn't spread it around, Matt just didn't call him by his name anymore. So Logan didn't tell anyone else about how he thought that guys were just as attractive as girls. He told them it was a joke. He made himself believe it. He promised he'd never tell anyone differently. _

_"Sup, fagot,"_

_"I wanna be a doctor," Logan said with a smile on his face. His grades were good this year, they were top, in fact. He had several med schools picked out and was taking some online courses. _

_His father frowned from the place across on the couch. Doubt trickled into Logan. Usually, parents were ecstatic. His mom was. _

_"Doctors work their entire lives," his father said, "They're miserable people. They don't have families because they work all the time. Do you know how long it takes for you to even start earning a living? Sure, you make a lot of money, but money isn't everything," _

_"But I want to be a doctor," _

_"You sure that isn't your mother talking? I know she's big into big prestigious careers, but I'm just worried about your happiness. I love you, so I don't want you to be miserable,"_

_"Thanks dad," even though his heart was broken. _

_Ninth grade was an improvement, definitely. All his hockey buddies were there. He had fun. So when they noticed the long red scratched on his arms, he smirked and told them energetically about his cat. He also hid that flutter that would get into his heart whenever James traced one so soft that it tickled; his eyes heavy. _

_He didn't fight with his mother anymore. He was too worried about her. After she had told him irrationally once that she was gonna get her shotgun back from his father, after she said she'd use it on herself, he couldn't fight her anymore. Of course, she was lying. She was always lying. _

_"You're the reason why I don't have a life! You suck all of my money out! I can't have a boyfriend because of you!" she screamed as she ran out the door. He lay in his bed and sighed. She was lying, but she was right. Worthless, he was worthless. He pulled his pocketknife out and opened the small blade. It was sharp. _

_He rolled up his sleeve and attacked the inner corner of his upper arm. Every slice, it hurt. Still, seeing the blood well up gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. He pushed his pants down and pressed the blade to his thigh. He thought about her words, thought about how horrible he was. He drew it across, looking away and trying to make it feel the worst. _

_Eventually, his thighs scabbed up and he pulled his pants up. Stashing his knife, he went into the kitchen and began cleaning. Bleach and lye stung his nose, probably burned his hands, but he enjoyed the mild burning feeling. It felt clean and useful. Every surface in the kitchen gleamed. The door opened as he finished and she stepped in with bloodshot eyes. _

_"I'm sorry, I love you, thank you so much for helping me," she said and pulled him into a hug. Logan sighed as his thighs burned. _

_"You too, mom," _

Logan glared at the ceiling and rolled over. His fingers crawled up his arm to itch the scabs. Stupid memories.

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And yes, my dears, I've been using Therapy lyrics from All Time Low as my titles. Although I may swap in some Sexy Plexi lyrics because I'm listening to way to much Jack Johnson. Anyway, please review and I'll get to the next chapter as soon as possible. Thanks for reading, loves!


	5. love yourself so no one has to

Sorry it's been so long! I've been balancing school work, being president of GSA, debate, and writing articles for money all at once and haven't had time to write more on this. It kind of requires a certain state of mind to write it and I haven't been able to get that mindset for a while. Either way, hope you enjoy!

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He needed to get out. It wasn't a question anymore. Logan stoically looked right and left inside the office building. Griffin's quiet words of disapproval burrowed deeper in him than any of Gustavo's shouting could ever get. He nodded blankly to the suggestions and criticisms, barely listening anymore. This was how he dealt with his father anyway.

The voice was louder than Griffin's right now. It transformed the elderly man's words into words of hate and loathing and degradation. The voice filled Logan with guilt and self-loathing. The pain in his chest tried choking him and the tell-tale burning of his eyes warned him of tears impending. He wouldn't cry though. He could wait to do that. Instead, he just sat there in silence and accepted his verbal punishment. He deserved it anyway.

"Either way Logan, you need to dedicate yourself more to the company and less to the medical profession. Don't get distracted," Griffin finished and nodded toward the door. Logan shakily got up and nodded.

"Sorry for wasting your time," Logan murmured and began heading out the door.

"I don't waste time on anything, so don't apologize," Griffin said in an underhand reassurance. Logan wanted to believe it, but the voice in his head shouted conspiracy theories.

The boys in the lobby lay sprawled on Gustavo's white couch. Carlos stood up and began heading into the office to get his talk from Griffin. They had all three sat on the couch, and the white space between the arm of the chair and James seemed pretty obviously meant for him.

Still, Logan doubted. What if his social cues were wrong and no one wanted to sit with him? That could be a possibility and they could sneer at him if he sat there. Besides, he couldn't handle physical contact right now.

So he sat on the armchair, much to the disappointment of James if the downcast stare was anything to judge. Still, Logan felt the overwhelming desire to get out. Gustavo walked into the room.

"Dogs, this division is facing serious financial rebukes because of you. We're being watched by the company on every expense. Normally, I just like yelling, but I'm being serious right now. This band could get cut if we don't stop over drafting our budget," Gustavo said seriously. Even Kendall nodded to the request. Logan bit his lip softly and felt even more trapped. He couldn't ask for help now, if he asked then Gustavo would have to pay for his medical expenses. There was no hope.

He needed to go to the bathroom. Standing up, Logan headed off to the solitude of the employee restroom. The single cubicle with the medical cabinet was more private than the one at the Palm woods. If there was anything he needed right now, it was privacy.

Logan avoided the mirror and dug out his wallet. Inside, a small razor gleamed back at him. Plucking it delicately out, Logan unbuttoned his jeans and pushed all of the clothing away from his thighs. Gripping the cool porcelain sink, Logan looked away and began raggedly slicing his thighs. He tried to let himself cry, to get out the burning sensation, but nothing eeked out. Instead, only the blood tricked down his thigh.

Finally, after slicing a billion tiny cuts into the meat of his thighs while thinking about how much he deserved them, Logan put the razor on the sink and opened the medicine cabinet. The Tylenol stared back at him. He picked the bottle up and stared at it. The menacing voice in his head told him to do it. He opened the bottle and rapidly shook out a handful. The white little capsules clacked together in his palm.

Then he poured them back in. He was in an employee restroom with his friends in the next room. Even if they hated him, he couldn't bear them finding him. He couldn't bear the thought of not succeeding and having to wake up to them.

Logan cleaned himself up and went back into the lobby. His thighs stung and he felt foolish, but he faked his ok in order to get the others off his back.

That night, when he was brushing his teeth, James came and leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. His long hair was held back off his face with a headband and his pajamas gave him a softness that usually wasn't present in the day. This James was more real, more vulnerable than diva James. That's what really struck Logan when he looked over at him.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" James said softly.

"Uh huh, sure," Logan said through a mouthful of soap suds. He spat them out, leaning down to suck in a mouthful of water from the tap. When he spat and leaned back up, James had edged into the bathroom.

"You've been distant lately," James murmured and looked deeply at him, "I want you to be ok and if you need to talk, I'm here. You're one of my closest friends and I don't want to see you drift,"

With that, James quickly wrapped his arms around Logan from behind and gave him a tight squeeze. Logan breathed deeply, absorbing the comfort, and opened his mouth to confide. But before he could say anything, indecision had him snapping his mouth shut and merely squeezing one of James's hands. He wasn't ready just yet.

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Thank you dears for reading, please review, and I'll get you a new chapter as soon as I can :)


	6. They tore me apart like a hurricane

Ahhhhh, Spring Break! Hope I can get more to you than what I've been getting. These take some effort to write...despite how short they are.

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Helping out at the animal shelter helped, at least for a little while. When he noticed the pamphlet on the corkboard, he had felt drawn to the activity. The shelter needed people to walk and feed the dogs. They needed people to carry adoption information and parade the dogs around to get them adopted. It was a no-kill shelter, which made Logan even happier to help out. Every dog he walked, he fell in love with. Sanchez, despite his fear of men wearing hats, was a loving and beautiful mini German Sheppard looking dog. All of the pitbulls were loving and adoring, cuddling up on his lap whenever they could. It was his one place where he could not think. It lasted from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm Tuesdays and Thursdays.

However, there was always a catch. Logan had created a way to make himself hate the charity he was doing. After he got out of the shelter, he would drive Mama Knight's rental car back to the Palm Woods. During the time, he would play a game with himself. He would let go of the wheel and let the car drift closer and closer to light poles and trees. At the last second, he would come up with a reason why he shouldn't crash and would steer away.

It was always the same reason. That he wouldn't be able to do it right at the speed he was going. That he would wake up and James would be there, giving him that look with big sad eyes, and Kendall would be pissed and inquisitive, and Carlos would be confused and terrified. Mama Knight would go through hell. His parents would destroy the band. He theorized instead how to do it right. How he would take the highway at 2 in the morning and get his speed up to the highest possible, and careen off the side of the highway. Or he could go peacefully, by renting a garage and falling asleep with the car in it.

He couldn't do this anymore. Logan sat in the parking garage of the Palm Woods and held his head. The realization had him curled inward upon himself. He couldn't keep up with this neverending train of misery. He couldn't handle more of this. He was on the verge of breaking. He needed to tell someone. He needed to tell Mama Knight.

With that realization, he found his entire body going limp for a brief minute. It was as if the impending decision had him all tense and once it was made, he just collapsed. The car was silent except for the hum of the engine. Reaching forth, Logan turned off the key and grappled for the handle.

He found himself floating to the room, to find Ms. Knight. He couldn't believe that he was doing this. He was going to chicken out, most assuredly. She was cooking casserole in the kitchen. The rest of the guys were out, conveniently. He took a deep breath and silently begged her to know that he wasn't making it up for attention.

"Ms Knight?" Logan asked.

"Yeah Hun?" she said as she spooned the goo into a dish. He breathed in and out.

"I've been, um, really depressed lately," Logan murmured, "And I can't get out of it."

Mama Knight turned toward him with a concerned expression on her face, but he just stared at the floor. She shoved the casserole into the oven and pressed a few buttons on the timer.

"Honey, what's wrong, did something happen?" she asked softly. Logan shook his head and tried to make her understand.

"No, it's all inside my head, and it's all me, and I don't know how to make it stop, I've tried to make it stop," he said quietly. Mama Knight gripped his shoulder and pulled him into her arms. He took a breath of her motherly affection and sighed a little.

"I'm going to take care of it Hun, don't worry about it," she said and squeezed his arm. Logan nodded and shuffled off to take a shower. He smelled like dog.

When he got into the shower, he almost sobbed with relief. All the energy fled, and he found himself sitting on the shower floor, shaking with relief. He wasn't hiding it anymore.

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It's not over, not by a long long shot, but he made the revelation. Now he's gotta keep fighting. Thank you for reading, please review! Thank you to those who have faithfully reviewed, I couldn't have done any of this without you :)


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